


What Happens at the Beach House

by tisfan



Series: Tony Stark Bingo [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bad Communication, Drunk Texting, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Favors, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nudity, Oral Sex, Sharing a Bed, Tickling, accidental nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-05-31 21:14:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15127946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: “Come on, I need this,” Tony begged. “I know, I know, it’s degrading, and you’re straight, but it’s my mom. She’s not going to stick us in the same room or anything.”Narrator: She did, in fact, stick them in the same room.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For bingo fill A1: Fake Relationship

New Text from Buckaroo: _That’s an ominous way to start a conversation._

Tony stared down at his phone. He was in so, so much trouble. Rhodey had told him not to drink so much. Pepper, for that matter, had told him not to drink so much. Bruce was always a fan of temperance, so Tony didn’t really take him seriously, but honestly, when Clint had pulled him aside and suggested maybe Tony should go easy on the sauce, Tony had probably actually wanted to listen to that.

He hadn’t, mind. It was his twenty-first birthday, and not only could he drink legally, but he actually came into some of his trust accounts from his mother’s side of the family, which meant he could finally, finally tell Howard to fuck off and die.

Which he sort of had, apparently.

Via text messages.

That he hadn’t remembered sending.

Tony thumbed his phone again. _I’m serious. You owe me at least four favors that I can think of, I’m cashing in._

New Text from Buckaroo: _I owe you like one and a half favors._

_That’s still a favor. I’m calling it in. I need you._

New Text from Buckaroo: _I’m highly concerned as to my safety. What do you need. Specifically._

Tony eyed the texts he’d sent to Howard, bragging about his gorgeous, perfect boyfriend. He even had a selfie with his arm around Bucky’s neck, the two of them mugging for the camera, and Tony supposed if someone squinted hard enough, they could look like they were dating. In any case, he’d sent it to Howard, along with a long, drunken, badly spelled and rambling series of texts about said boyfriend and ended with a _what do you plan to do about it, huh?_

_I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend. For, like. A week._

It probably shouldn’t have been a surprise when Bucky called him instead of texting.

“You want me to _pretend_ to do what, Stark?”

“Seriously, this is not going to work if you’re calling me ‘Stark,’” Tony protested.

“Dare I ask why you want me to pretend to date you, _darling_?”

Tony could have gotten a bucket to store that dripping sarcasm in. “I might have been texting my father last night, and sort of implied that we were dating.”

“Might?”

“Okay, okay, so I totally did it, although in my defense, I was left unsupervised and there was a lot of alcohol involved,” Tony said. “Which, that wouldn’t be so bad, it’s not like there’s anything Howard can do, but apparently--” Tony winced, remembering the phone call that had woken him up in the morning, “--he told my mom. And she invited us to her beach getaway. It’s really nice, you’ll like it. All the ocean and seafood you can stand.”

“Get Clint to be your fake date,” Bucky suggested. “You know he woulda flunked out of half his classes if you weren’t tutoring him.”

“I… sort of sent him your picture. It’s gotta be you.”

“Tony…” Bucky whined.

“Come on, I need this,” Tony begged. “I know, I know, it’s degrading, and you’re straight, but it’s _my mom._ She’s not going to stick us in the same room or anything. Look, I’ll cover your summer tuition, okay? I know you’re staying for the summer semester.”

Bucky grumbled for a few more minutes, then finally, “Yeah, okay. But we’re clear. I don’t owe you anything else. Ever.”

Tony collected favors; they were a lot more valuable than money. If there was anything Howard had taught him that was worth knowing, it was that it was more who, than what, you knew. He’d kept Bucky’s clunker car running for the last two semesters, and since Bucky was on a very tight budget -- he worked two part time jobs in addition to going to school full time, pulling overloaded semesters, attended summer school and pulled an extra two credits in the winter, in order to graduate early -- just saving the money in car repairs was worth it to him.

Besides, Tony liked to tinker with cars, and Bucky’s car needed a _lot_ of work.

“Free and clear.”

“I hate you,” Bucky commented.

“Nope, not today. Today, and for the next week, you love me.”

Bucky hung up on him.

***

“I thought you said your mom wouldn't put us in the same room!” Oh this was bad, Bucky thought. So so very bad.

“I may have miscalculated how excited she is about my having a partner,” Tony mumbled. He was staring at the bed, rather than looking at Bucky. “Or, and this is probably what happened, she invited a bunch of friends down for the week, and I was a last minute addition.”

“Along with me,” Bucky pointed out.

“It’s a big bed?” Tony offered.

Bucky bit down on his lower lip. It was a mistake. This was a mistake. Oh, god, he was going to die. There was no way he’d be able to keep his crush a secret, not in circumstances like this. Well, maybe Tony would think he was going full-on method actor or something. He had to admit, when Tony had first texted him, he thought, maybe, he wouldn’t need to keep a crush secret any longer. He’d gotten a few texts that night, after Tony’s birthday party had wound down, pictures of them together, and the suggestion that they made a cute couple.

And then Tony has texted, _I need to pretend to like you for a week._

Yeah. It wasn’t happening. Ever. Tony was still staring at the bed in dismay. Out in the hall, Bucky heard the rat-tat-tat of someone in heels, headed their way. Probably Tony’s mom, who would want to know stupid things like how long they’d been dating, and how they got together, and all the stories that he and Tony hadn’t worked out yet.

Bucky panicked. That was the only excuse he was going to accept for what he did next. He grabbed Tony’s tee, yanked him in, and lip-locked him. Tony’s huge, doe eyes went even wider for a moment, then he seemed to melt into it, until Bucky was practically bending him in half like a hairpin.

Someone rapped on the door, but didn’t wait for an answer before the knob was twisting. He and Tony sprung apart as if they’d caught fire, and it was exactly the _oh, we were just… not kissing_ look that parents started dreading by the time their kids turned thirteen or so.

Mrs. Stark didn’t even blink. “Antonio, dinner’s at seven, and Janet’s arrived. She wants to freshen up, then, if you’d be a dear, she wants to walk on the beach. You boys will escort her, won’t you?”

That sounded more like an order than a suggestion, but maybe if Tony’s friends were here, Bucky wouldn’t have to do anything more than hover around awkwardly.

He definitely wasn’t imaging the smug little smile on Mrs. Stark’s lips.

Or the way Tony looked delightfully ravished, hair messy and lips kiss-swollen.

“Right, sure, Mom,” Tony said, color in his cheeks and refusing, point blank, to look at Bucky at all. “We’ll, uh, get changed and meet Jan out on the deck?”

“Thank you, dears.”

Bucky waited until the last echo of Mrs. Stark’s heels disappeared, before turning to Tony with a raised eyebrow. “So, what stories are we telling? How long we’ve been together?”

“Go with the truth, it’s easier,” Tony said. He was digging through his bag and pulled out a pair of red and gold trunks. “Say we got together during Professor Pym’s molecular biology class. It’s not like we don’t spend some time together. Just, you know, spice it up some.” He waggled his eyebrows at Bucky. “You seem to be getting the idea, just now, anyway.”

Bucky groaned. “Look, I’m so--”

“Nope,” Tony said, and he was smirking, which was decidedly unfair. “What happens at the beach house stays at the beach house. But while we’re here… well, I’m game for as far as you want to pretend it goes.”

“Right,” Bucky said. He grabbed his own swim shorts and disappeared into the bathroom before Tony could suss out just how much that particular comment was both a torment and a temptation.

***

Bucky’s casual affection was starting to get to Tony. The man grabbed his hand at every opportunity, wrapped himself around Tony whenever they were standing together, his thumb stroking down the side of Tony’s throat. There were pecks on the cheek and sometimes getting dragged into dark corners and kissed until he couldn’t breathe.

It was crazy and wonderful and confusing as hell, because Bucky turned it all off as soon as they were _alone_. His mother had caught them being just a little on the naughty side in the kitchen pantry, and when she’d scolded them for it, Bucky had just laughed, and then proceeded to drag Tony off to share the spoils of cookies he’d apparently liberated while Mom was rolling her eyes pointedly.

And then he’d hand-fed those cookies to Tony one at a time, making him stretch out to grab a bite.

But as soon as they were alone-alone (like in the bedroom, in the shared bed, for Christ’s sake) Bucky turned into an entirely different person. One who looked at Tony like Tony was something that had gotten scraped off on the bottom of his best sneakers.

Okay, so maybe he was exaggerating. But he went back to the same sort of casual friends kinda thing.

Only in it because he owed Tony a favor or three.

Which was fine, it was fine, but…

Bucky was a bed hog. Tony had totally woken up every morning so far with Bucky wrapped around him like a koala, nose stuck in the hair at the back of Tony’s neck.

And this morning, he’d woken up with that and raging case of morning wood. Which he’d had to extract himself gingerly and hurry off to the shower to take care of, before he did something stupid and irreversible (and irreversibly stupid) like try to kiss Bucky awake and see if he wanted to take that what happens at the beach house any further than kisses and harmless flirting.

Not that the flirting was harmless, because Tony kept having to remind himself that they weren’t dating. They’d never been on a date before, it had never even come up, except that Tony found himself absently gazing at Bucky from across a classroom. He knew Bucky’s schedule (well, that wasn’t hard, really, or bad. He knew Bruce’s schedule, too. And Rhodey’s. And… okay, so he was a little creepy and he knew most of his friends’ schedules, that wasn’t so weird, right?) well enough that at least half the time, he managed to catch him and walk with him to his next class. A few times a week.

Okay, so the flirting was really not harmless and Tony was in real danger of actually… taking it seriously.

Aaand now he had a real problem.

Because he’d been in such a hurry to scramble into the shower, he’d forgotten his clothes. And he’d already tossed his sweatpants down the laundry chute. He stared at himself in the mirror, barely visible behind the thick condensation that beaded up the mirror. He was going to have to go out there in a towel.

Despite having just frantically jerked it in the shower, his dick perked up a little at the idea of being next to naked, that close to Bucky.

Which was not exactly the same thing as Bucky being naked next to Tony, and he should stop thinking about that right now, because….

“Hey.” Bucky rapped on the door. “You almost done in there, I need t’pee.”

“Uh, sure,” Tony said. “Minute.”

Well, at least he could just slide past Bucky and get dressed in the bedroom, really fast, while Bucky was in the bathroom. So, that would work out and…

He opened the door and loftily didn’t look, just walked out into the main room wearing a towel around his hips. Bucky made a squeaking noise and scurried into the bathroom, yanking the door shut behind him--

\--and catching the end of Tony’s towel in the door, pulling it off.

***

Tony made a squeaking noise less than five seconds after Bucky shut the bathroom door. Since he hadn’t done anything he opened the door again, “Wha--” The towel fell from where it had been caught in the door and hit the floor with a soft thump.

Tony froze, only a few steps away. (Pardon the pun) Stark naked.

If Bucky had half a functioning brain cell left after getting a good look at Tony’s naked backside and the brief glimpse of his cock as he swung round in surprise before he stopped and his hands dropped, he might have shut the door. Given the man some privacy after Bucky apparently accidentally yanked his towel off.

Something.

Instead both of them apparently panicked.

Bucky dropped to one knee to recover the towel, and Tony took two steps forward -- either to do the same or to shove Bucky back in the bathroom.

_Well, that’s not suggestive at all._

Bucky’s mouth went stone dry.

He was now on his knees in front of a naked Tony Stark.

It was either the best day of his entire existence, bar none, or it was about to the be the worst.

Bucky tipped his chin up.

Tony looked down.

There was absolutely no mistaking the way Tony’s whiskey dark eyes went wide.

Bucky licked his lip.

Tony dick perked up, swelling and--

“Oh, god,” Tony croaked.

“What happens in the beach house?” Bucky suggested, tipping his head to one side, because really, if he was only going to get one chance, he was going to fucking take it.

Tony reached out, cupped the side of Bucky’s jaw, thumb running over his lower lip and leaving a trail of fire behind. “Stays at the beach house?” He shivered. “You don’t have--”

“I want to,” Bucky said, and then since it was Tony, and Tony was going to argue about everything, he just leaned in.

The noise Tony made when Bucky’s mouth brushed against Tony’s cock was the sweetest thing Bucky had ever heard in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, yes, I know...
> 
> stop screaming, this will pick Right Back up with square A2: Bathing/Showering together


	2. Stays at the Beach House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony loses his towel and Bucky loses his self-control… and then Tony loses his damn mind, and before either of them really consider it, Tony’s getting bent over in the shower…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done for   
> MCUKinkBingo Square O2 - Shower Sex  
> (this chapter mostly stands alone; you can go back and read the first chapter if you want, but that's all just fake relationship/bed sharing, and you don't really need to in order to enjoy a little dirty shower smut)  
> and  
> TonyStarkBingo Square A2 - Showering Together

There was something utterly decadent, hedonistic, about being completely naked and getting a blow job while the other person was completely dressed and on their knees. It was like… being served.

He hadn’t _meant_ to practically run Bucky over while dressed only in a towel; he certainly hadn’t meant to get the towel snagged in the door and end up accidentally exposed. But when Bucky went to his knees to get the towel, Tony sprung wood. It really wasn’t his fault. And then Bucky-- Bucky had just leaned forward and…

Tony uttered a strangled laugh that turned into a moan. He brought his forearm up to his mouth, stifling the sounds he was making. The last thing he needed was his mother to walk in behind them.

“Oh, god,” Tony gasped. His free hand went to Bucky’s hair, to keep himself balanced, but also to grip those silky strands, feel the texture like he’d wanted to. He tried not to yank or direct, but Bucky made a soft, satisfied hum against Tony’s dick that he couldn’t stop his hand from tightening at the base of Bucky’s skull.

Tony tried to slip his hand free, but Bucky reached up, grabbed his wrist. He popped off Tony’s cock with an obscene slurp. “S’okay, pull my hair, I like that,” Bucky told him, and went back to what he was doing, reaching around Tony’s waist to yank him closer until Bucky was practically choking on Tony’s dick.

That was power. That was… _heady_.

Tony grabbed a great handful of Bucky’s hair, tugged and Bucky went eagerly where he was directed, the sounds coming out of his mouth were lewd, filthy. It was like some damn porno. _Dear playboy, I never thought it would happen to me..._

Tony’s thighs were quivering, his knees threatening to go out on him. “Bucky, oh, my god, Bucky,” Tony gasped.

Bucky surged up, leaving a few hairs behind, twined around Tony’s fingers and he captured Tony’s mouth with his own, his tongue fucking into Tony’s mouth, hard, forceful. Ballistic kisses, Tony thought before getting his arms around Bucky’s neck and actually kissing him back. Damn, it was unfairly hot, and Bucky seemed to be doing all the damn work and all Tony wanted to do was melt into a puddle.

Well, except for the part of him that was upright and aching.

Tony tried to give as good as he got, flicking his tongue over Bucky’s eager lips, tasting himself on Bucky’s tongue. Bucky got a handful of Tony’s ass and then turned them, slamming Tony’s back against the wall. All the air rushed out of his lungs, and Bucky had practically lifted him up, rutting against the wall, making eager, frantic sounds.

“Tony, Tony, Tony,” Bucky was saying in between delirious kisses.  

Tony pulled his legs up until he was riding Bucky’s hips, using the wall to push into him. “Yes, yes, yes,” he answered, taking every repetition of his name as an opportunity to confirm, agree, consent. _Yes, fuck me, yes, touch me, yes, be mine, everything, anything you want, just don’t stop._

God, Bucky was _strong_. He was holding Tony up with just a little bit of help from the wall, rolling those glorious hips up at the same time, and he was still kissing Tony like his life depended on it.

“Want, want,” Bucky muttered, biting the shell of Tony’s ear and eliciting a started squeak.

“Yeah, yeah, honey, whatever you want,” Tony moaned.

Bucky let Tony down, a slow, agonizing drag over Bucky’s lean body, each bit of Tony’s skin sticking and clinging to Bucky’s shirt. A huge wet smear marked his clothes, where Tony had been pressed.

“Come on,” Tony said, stepping to the side and drawing Bucky after him. “Bathroom.”

“Huh?”

“I have stuff in th’ bathroom,” Tony explained, tugging Bucky’s hand until he got with the damn program. “Lube ‘n condoms.”

“Oh, yeah, okay,” Bucky said, looking a little dazed. He got inside the bathroom and the door shut behind them.

Tony bent over to check the bottom drawer of the vanity, and Bucky didn’t waste any time, he was right up on Tony immediately. Tony had to get a hand between himself and the countertop before Bucky was-- oh, _Christ_! Was Bucky mouthing his way down Tony’s spine, headed--

“Christ, _Bucky_ ,” Tony gasped as Bucky spread Tony’s asscheeks and swiped his tongue directly over Tony’s asshole.

“What happens at th’ beachhouse,” Bucky said. “Gonna do ever’ dirty, obscene, sexy thing I ever thought about.” His tongue went right back to Tony’s hole, flicking over the surface.

Tony whimpered, grabbed hold of the slick countertop and spread his legs a little wider. “Oh, Christ,” he repeated.

“You know,” Bucky said, getting a finger into it, teasing at Tony’s rim, “s’long as you’re okay with it, I prob’ly shouldn’t have jus’--”

“Barnes, I will straight up _murder_ you if you stop to fucking _apologize_ ,” Tony grated.

Bucky uttered an absolutely wicked chuckle that did more things to Tony’s nerve endings than the fact that Bucky was fucking rimming him. There was something really wrong with him, Tony decided. Despite that, he kept pushing up on his toes, trying to stay close, his legs shaking with tension, his dick aching.

“Where’s my lube?” Bucky scolded, and he had one finger in, just the pad, tugging.

“Gonna brain myself on the damn sink if you-- oh, god,” Tony said.

Bucky wriggled the tip of his finger, a delicious tease. “You want me t’ stop?”

“ _No_ ,” and that came out so plaintive that Bucky actually laughed.

Tony dug through the bottom drawer, behind all the spare towels that no one ever used, and there-- lube and a tri-fold of condoms. He practically threw them at Bucky.

“Oh, good, waterproof,” Bucky said. He’d let the condoms fall on the floor, but he’d caught the bottle of lube with one hand. Without even taking his finger out of Tony’s ass. There had to be something preternatural about that.

Tony shifted around a little so he could hold his arms over the edge of the tub, ease the strain on his back, and hopefully feel a little less ridiculous.

Bucky poured a line of lube down Tony’s crack and worked it in, making the burn ease, the stretch easier. “There you are, god, you’re fucking gorgeous.”

“Well, not yet,” Tony managed, his voice sounding wrecked, but he didn’t even care, “but I will be, if he gets it in gear.”

Bucky licked him again, wet and slick and hot, and Tony really thought he might straight up die. “Shower,” Bucky said.

It was Tony’s turn to gawp like a fish, completely lost.

“Turn the shower on, get in,” Bucky clarified. “It’ll make clean up easier.”

“Why did I think you were straight?” Tony whined. He did as Bucky demanded, though, and then watched, open mouthed, as Bucky stripped out of his clothes. He didn’t think he’d seen anything so fucking gorgeous as Bucky’s naked chest, right up until he dropped his drawers and Tony got a look at that glorious, proud cock.

“I don’t know,” Bucky replied. “I never said that, I’m totally into guys. Totally into girls, too, truth.”

_Bisexual._ Tony groaned and then stepped in the shower. He was still damp from his previous shower, but then Bucky was in there with him, and any lingering embarrassment was lost in the fact that there was a hot, wet, naked Bucky Barnes pushing him into one corner of the shower stall and fucking rutting against him.

Bucky snaked a hand around Tony’s back, dipped his fingers into Tony’s lube-slicked crack, and then starting working him open, two fingers, while Tony was scrambling to hold on. Bucky’s broad shoulders gave him something to cling to, and he had one foot propped up on the damn soap dish, and he was going to fucking die in the shower, with Bucky’s cock in his ass, probably, but what a way to go.

And he’d be too dead to worry about it.

The ache and burn wasn’t too bad, and the hot water kept his back from getting cramped up with the weird position they were in.

“Here, bend,” Bucky said, nudging him until he was facing away from the spray, arms spread wide. He bend in the middle, until he was braced, feet against the side of the tub, hands pushing back in the corners.

Bucky muttered a few things while he struggled to get the condom on in the shower, his hands slippery and wet, but finally, Tony felt the head nudging at his ass.

“Yeah, like that, baby, just like that.”

Bucky lined his cock up with Tony's eager offering, the lube gliding the way for him.   
  
Bucky eased back as Tony moved with him, teasing, giving tiny, half-strokes. Tony whined, hooked one leg up until his knee was on the side of the tub, and fuck, he was going to slip, he was going to crack his head open, but oh, god, it was good. Tony risked letting go, got a hand down to fondle his own cock while Bucky worked him eagerly from behind. Bucky adjusted, thrust forward, rocking himself into Tony’s body relentlessly. Tony wasn’t quite there, not quite -- he had, after all, jerked it about twenty minutes ago -- but heat was building.

“Come on, come on,” Bucky was slamming into him, and god, it felt good, so full and thick and stretched and adored.   
  
Time slowed; every breath that rushed through Bucky's lungs was like music. Each droplet of water that dashed against his skin was an intimate caress. The tropical scent of the shampoo pierced his nostrils, a delight to his senses. And the sweet, slick sensation of Bucky's body pressed against him.

Bucky thrust, hard. It was so hard to think straight, for Tony to be anything other than a primal, driven beast.  
  
Bucky reached around, took Tony's cock in his own hand and stroked in time with his thrusts. Tony practically screamed; it was simply impossible to do anything else. Tony slumped against the cool tile, resting his forehead on the edge of the tub.

Tony was not quiet, he was not stoic, and he was completely unashamed of that fact. He shouted as he came, yelling his pleasure, screaming his ecstasy. Bucky trembled with suppressed laughter, or maybe his own oncoming orgasm

"Yes, yes!" Tony came, spraying jizz all over the wall, that was washed away with the next spray of water.

Bucky let out a sigh, barely an exhalation longer than the one before, shuddered. “Oh, god.”

“Careful,” Tony managed. “Kill your knees’f you fall down.”

Bucky leaned down, shifting them, and kissed Tony’s spine. “I’ll be fine.”

Tony wasn’t fine; he was so far beyond _fine_ he’d left it in a different zip code. They stayed like that a few minutes, chasing their breath, getting their balance back, before Bucky pulled free. Tony let himself collapse, ended up curled in the bottom of the tub, just trying to sort out the rush of hormones from the tangle of feelings.

“You okay down there?”

“Couldn’t be better,” Tony said, giving Bucky a thumbs up. “Just don’t wanna stand up jus’ yet.”

“Okay,” Bucky sounded a little dubious, but didn’t push. “I’m gonna wash my hair while we’re in here, okay? Don’t… don’t go anywhere.”

Like Tony could fucking walk, really.

Had he really just had crazy, completely spontaneous sex with Bucky, in the damn shower?

Yes, yes, he was pretty sure that happened. The way his ass was throbbing suggested it, at least. Not some vivid jerk off fantasy or wet dream.

Bucky scrubbed soap suds out of his hair, leaning back into the spray, his entire body on unselfconscious display, so Tony decided he’d take a good, long look. The condom was a mess of rubber and spermicide and come, practically blocking the drain, but they’d take care of that, later.

Bucky still had about a half-chub, and Tony wanted to taste it, but--

“So, uh, was this a one time thing?” he asked when Bucky finished rinsing his hair.

Bucky offered him a hand, and drew Tony to his feet. His mouth tasted like shampoo and his lips were warm and he kissed Tony like there might be more to come. When he pulled back, he said, “Let’s… just see what happens, okay? I didn’t… I ain’t got no grand designs on you or nothin’, I jus’...”

“What happens at the beach house?”

Bucky didn’t answer that, he just drew Tony in for a hug and they stood there under the hot spray for a long, quiet moment. Tony closed his eyes and listened to Bucky’s heartbeat and _hoped_.

_It doesn’t have to stay at the beach house?_


	3. Rules of the Road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This fic contains some dub-con tickling, and as usually happens with tickle-fights, Tony is _begging_ Bucky to stop. Tony actually enjoys it, and does eventually admit that, that being said. if that sort of thing makes you uncomfortable, you might want to skip this fic.
> 
> For Bingo Fill B3 - Tickling

Tony squeezed past him in the bathroom, his fingers pressed to the small of Bucky’s back, the way he’d done the last three days.

Strange how something that had only happened four times in Bucky’s entire life could feel like a habit. Bucky’d always had a tendency to rest his elbows on the sink while he brushed his teeth, practically sleeping on the counter with a toothbrush in his mouth, and blocked the door. Tony didn’t let that bother him, just nudged Bucky upright for a moment so he could start the elaborate procedure that was caring for that little nothing of a goatee that he was sporting.

Tony examined his chin and throat in the mirror, absurdly proud of his facial hair, even if he hardly had a speck of body hair anywhere else. His chest was smooth, and the hair on his legs and the little tuft under each arm was pale brown, barely visible. His hair was a swirl of smashed curls on one side and a ringlet behind one ear that made Bucky want to pluck at it.

So, he did, drawing the curl out to its full length and watching it spring back into place.

“Hey--” Tony swatted at him playfully, the towel around his middle straining to stay there. “Hands off the goods.”

“No squeezing the Charmin,” Bucky said. He went back to scrubbing his teeth. “Got it.”

Tony wiggled his ass enticingly, at the same time giving Bucky a stern, no-nonsense look that was as fake as it got. “That’s right, Grabby McGrabby hands.”

Bucky spat a mouthful of toothpaste into the sink. “Z’at so?” He reached out, his finger close to, but not actually, touching Tony’s neck. “I’m not touching you.”

“God, you’re such a child,” Tony said, rolling his eyes extravagantly.

“Oh, _am_ I?” Bucky poked Tony in the ribs.

Tony actually squeaked, jumped, and then scrambled to keep his towel up. “Bucky, no,” he protested.

Interesting. Bucky just looked at Tony, letting the side of his mouth creep up into a smirk. “Tony,” he said, his voice low and breathy with anticipation, “are you _ticklish_?”

“No, no, absolutely not,” Tony babbled, his eyes going wide and round, before he turned away with forced nonchalance. “I just don’t want you poking me.”

“I think you are,” Bucky singsonged, hovering one hand near Tony’s ribs.

“ _Not_ ,” Tony said again, his glare greatly hindered by the way his mouth twitched into an involuntary smile.

“Mmmmm,” Bucky hummed, thoughtfully. He reached for the mouthwash and rinsed his mouth out, watching Tony in the mirror’s reflection until Tony decided Bucky wasn’t going to do anything, and went back to his grooming routine.

Tony was still flicking suspicious looks in Bucky’s direction, but as soon as he reached for the trimmer, Bucky poked Tony under the arm, wriggling his finger.

“Staaaaahp!” Tony shrieked. The trimmer fell into the sink with a clatter, spraying the nearby vicinity with beard bits. Tony went wobbly in the legs, barely catching himself on the edge of the counter, and then squeaking again, tugging his towel close over his waist. “You’re mean!”

“I thought you said that you weren’t ticklish,” Bucky taunted him. Poked him again.

Tony squeezed his arms down tight over his sides, “I’m nooooohat!”

“Seems like you are.” Bucky wormed his fingers in between Tony’s arms and his ribs. Tony pushed backward against him, and they both took two staggering steps backward before Bucky’s back hit the wall and there was nowhere for Tony to go, still trapped in Bucky’s embrace.

“God, you’re _awful_ ,” Tony complained, but he was rubbing backward against Bucky.

 Bucky nuzzled at Tony’s ear, then down his neck. “You like it,” Bucky told him.

“No, that’s definitely not true,” Tony said, but he didn’t try to get away, even though Bucky’d hold on him had loosened considerably.

As Bucky kept licking at his throat and nipping at the shell of Tony’s ear, Tony pushed back against him, until they were lined up, Bucky’s dick pressed against Tony’s ass, and God, even through his boxers and Tony’s towel, it felt amazing. He rolled his hips against the pressure.

“Also, a menace,” Tony added, and he was rocking into Bucky’s thrusts, the towel getting looser around his waist. He reached up and back, pulling Bucky’s head down for a proper kiss, all open mouthed and wet and delicious. Both of them tasted like mint and mornings. Bucky couldn’t help but let his mouth curve into a grin as he ran his hand down Tony’s arm, fingers tracing the sensitive underside.

Tony got about half a second’s worth of warning before Bucky got him well and good under the arm, spidering his fingers. Tony out and out shrieked.

The towel was a lost cause, falling to the floor unheeded as Tony squirmed and tried to escape, giggling and protesting the entire time until he finally managed to twist around in Bucky’s arms. He grabbed both of Bucky’s wrists, pushing his hands away, and when Bucky brought them back, Tony shoved Bucky’s palms down until they were firmly on Tony’s ass. “There. You can touch there,” Tony declared.

Bucky used his hold on Tony’s ass to pull them closer together. Being tickled and giggling hadn’t done anything to Tony’s erection, which felt hard enough to drill diamonds against Bucky’s thigh. “You do like it,” Bucky marveled, and one hand spidered up Tony’s back, which had the advantage of making Tony squirm closer, while their cocks were rubbing together, only the thin fabric of Bucky’s boxers separating them.

Tony gasped and his ears turned brilliant red. “I like _you_ ,” Tony said, blushing, “uh, touching me. I like being touched, yes, that’s exactly right. You just happen to be the one doing it.”

Bucky’s stomach dipped a bit; he was pretty sure that half of Tony’s campus bike reputation was bullshit, but he wasn’t sure if this was just one more temporary arrangement. They didn’t talk about it. He pulled the naked, wriggling man in his arms closer and decided they weren’t going to talk about it now, either. “Who likes being tickled,” Bucky said, low in his ear. “Admit it.”

“Or you’ll what?”

Bucky smirked. “I’ll tickle you _until_ you admit it.”

The adorable baffled expression on Tony’s face was almost worth it. He raised one finger as if to point out the absurdity of Bucky’s threat, lowered it. His mouth opened and closed like a gloriously befuddled fish.

“Somehow this just sounds like a losing scenario for me,” Tony said, finally. He wiggled under Bucky’s hands again. “How about I do something nice for you, while we’re all hot and bothered anyway, instead?”

“Hmmm.” Bucky pretended to consider it while Tony squirmed in his grasp, gasping and his mouth turning up every time Bucky moved his hands. “No.”

But it finally occurred to Tony to fight back, and when Bucky tickled up his ribs again, Tony attacked Bucky’s stomach. They were both giggling and wrestling in the bathroom until Bucky was forced to flee back into the bedroom to get away from Tony’s quick, clever fingers. The carpeted floor was a little bit softer, and safer, although Bucky was going to end up with rug burn on one ankle, before they both ended up toppled into the bed.

It took Bucky a few minutes and some concentrated effort, but he finally got Tony pinned down, hands over his head, pushing his wrists into the mattress with one hand. Tony got a little wild-eyed and struggled furiously, writhing under Bucky’s body with determination. Bucky lowered his hand toward Tony’s exposed and vulnerable armpit.

“No, no no no no,” Tony squeaked, “Come on, isn’t there something else you wanna-- _Bucky_!”

“Just say it,” Bucky told him, fingers resting on Tony’s skin. Tony squirmed away, giggling again, breathless.

“Okay, okay, okay, okay, Bucky, pleeeeeeheeeze don’t!” Tony shivered, then surrendered. “Okay, I admit it. I like it. A little bit, a little, oh, god, please don’t tickle anymore, I give up!”

Bucky let him go, curling into Tony’s embrace with eager pliancy. “See, that’s all you had to say,” Bucky said, kissing Tony thoroughly, enjoying the way Tony’s chest was heaving as he panted for air, the way he was still twitchy and giggling, and the way he kept touching and squeezing, as if determined to keep Bucky’s attention on how damn sexy he was, instead of how ticklish.

“Mean,” Tony repeated, which didn’t keep him from rocking up against Bucky’s hips. Bucky wasn’t even sure where he’d lost his boxers, but they were both bare and he was laying over Tony’s thighs. Not quite enough, and he lifted up a bit, to let Tony spread his legs. Bucky settled into the cradle of Tony’s thighs.

“Yeah, I’m terrible,” Bucky agreed, but he was making Tony whine and moan by rubbing them together, so he didn’t take it particularly seriously. Tony groaned, threw his head back, and Bucky responded by making sensual love to Tony’s throat.

Tony’s hand slipped down Bucky’s chest and he thumbed Bucky’s nipple. “I dunno about that, this part’s pretty great,” he said, and further down, until Tony’s fingers curled around Bucky’s cock. “And I lo-- er, this part’s really nice, too, love what you do with it, just the _best_.”

Bucky inhaled sharply, rubbing against that touch. “Oh, yeah, Tony, like tha-- that’s so sweet, honey.”

“Kiss me,” Tony told him. Bossy little thing, Bucky thought, but did what Tony wanted, because he wanted it, too. And because bossy, demanding Tony was perfect and beautiful. Rather than kissing Tony’s mouth, however, Bucky slithered down Tony’s body and kissed the very tip of Tony’s dick.

Tony gasped, arched into it. “That wasn’t what I meant,” he protested, suddenly breathless and going pliant against the bed.

“No?” Bucky wondered. He sucked the head into his mouth, then licked a stripe down the shaft. “I could stop.” Lick, nuzzle. “If you wanted me to.”

Tony clutched at Bucky’s head, fingers sinking into Bucky’s hair, and Bucky wasn’t sure if Tony was pushing or pulling, but it didn’t matter, because Tony was also pleading with him to keep going. Just like that, Bucky, please, oh, god.

Bucky smiled around his mouthful, his hands wandering up and down Tony’s body, playing with one nipple, then stroking his thighs and flanks.

God, Bucky wanted this man. Not just today, not just in this moment, but always. He was almost undone by it, the suddenness, the immediacy, and the sheer hopelessness of it. But he was going to take what he had, make the most of it. He took Tony all the way down his throat, bobbed his head up and down on Tony’s dick until Tony was rocking back and forth, moaning like a wanton.

“You’re perfect,” Tony praised, “but if you don’t get up here, I’m--”

Bucky sucked him down again, and Tony all but wailed.

Bucky almost lost himself in the bliss of the moment, the way Tony tasted, the heavy feel against Bucky’s tongue, the way he knew his face was getting red, and the way he was gasping in huge gulps of air as he pulled back. And then Tony smacked him in the shoulder with the bottle of lube, and Bucky grinned. He deposited a row of kisses along Tony’s length.

“If you don’t fucking fuck me, already,” Tony threatened, and Bucky stifled a laugh against Tony’s belly.

Bucky moved, positioning himself to be able to tease and stroke. He wet his fingers, Tony, himself. There was no such thing as too much lube. He was struggling with the condom, and Tony helped him roll it on. “I got you, Tony,” Bucky promised, and he wished it was true.

“Bucky,” Tony whispered, and it was both a question and a statement, a promise and a request, and Bucky answered it the best he could. He kissed Tony thoroughly as he opened him up.

Slid between Tony’s thighs and pressed against Tony’s opening.

“Please.”

Tony wanted him, needed him. Bucky could savor that feeling forever. “Yeah, Tony, I’m here.”

Bucky pushed in, an inch or so, and strained, waiting for Tony to adjust around him. Tony was stiff as a board under him, and then suddenly loose and relaxed, groaning into it. He lifted his legs and wrapped them around Bucky’s hips, yanking him closer. Bucky shivered, tucked his face against Tony’s shoulder as he fought to control himself.

Think of baseball, of classes, of student debt.

They moved together, rocking in what seemed like perfect harmony. Bucky couldn’t stop kissing Tony, playing those sweet lips with his tongue, kissed his cheek, his nose, nuzzled against his throat. He pushed in and Tony rolled up to meet him. Tony was under him, making soft, urgent sounds. Grinding against Bucky, hands soft but eager.

The last strings of Bucky’s control snapped and he fucked into Tony urgently. He moved, his body falling into the rhythm and demands of need. His desire spiraled with each stroke, reaching some impossible plateau. He was sure he couldn’t stand it any longer, but then Tony would shift, or plead with him, or make some lustful sound and Bucky would find it in himself to keep going, to hold off, until they were right there, together, in some impossible place.

He wanted Tony more than anything. It seemed almost magical. His skin sparked and his nerves sang and his hands gripped Tony’s shoulders.

“Bucky, oh, oh, god, Bucky,” Tony was moaning, and the sound was too much. It was all too much -- the sight of Tony, the smell of him, the way he felt, moving under Bucky’s body -- and he felt himself shuddering into completion. He gritted his teeth; not yet, not yet.

“Oh, christ, Tony,” he gasped. He got a hand in between them, started stroking Tony in time with his thrusts and the way Tony’s face relaxed in sweet desire was enough to get him through it, until Tony’s pleasure became more important than his own. Tony was tense and quivering, and then he spasmed under Bucky’s hand, clenched down, and Bucky yelled, muffling his cries against Tony’s shoulder as he came, as wet heat flowered between them.

“Oh, oh, oh, _god_ ,” Tony managed.

“You said it,” Bucky agreed. He couldn’t have moved if his life depended on it, wanting to stay right there, to sink into Tony as if they could literally become one.

They lay there, entwined in each other for a quite a while. Bucky thought he might even have fallen asleep for a few minutes, or maybe not quite, because he was hyper aware of every sound Tony made and the contented rhythm of his breathing.

Eventually, he mustered enough effort to roll off, and Tony curled up at his side immediately.

“Hey, hey,” Bucky said, running his hand through the tangle of Tony’s hair, “I was, you know, thinking--”

“Always a bad idea,” Tony said, kissing Bucky’s chest idly. “You should save the thinking for me.”

“Probably,” Bucky admitted. “But still, when we get back to school--”

“Oh, that,” Tony interrupted. “Yeah, no, you don’t have to worry about anything.” Tony rolled over and sat up, presenting a suddenly stiff back to Bucky.

“I wasn’t _worried--_ ” Bucky protested, and he reached for Tony, who evaded him easily. “I just thought that--”

“I won’t be clingy or anything,” Tony said. “We’ll just, you know, go on with things like normal. Like you said, what happens at the beach house stays here.”

“Tony, I, that wasn’t--”

“I’m gonna go take a shower,” Tony said, and he got up, leaving Bucky behind. He didn’t look back, either. Bucky knew, because he watched the whole time, those stiff shoulders, that not-quite-straight walk, legs lifeless and barely lifting his feet.

What… what the hell had just happened?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Further A/N - STOP with the screaming. I’ve mapped this one out, and there’s going to be at least two more parts. Romantic Gestures and Kissing.


	4. Falling for Your Boyfriend, Idiot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, no one said Howard was going to be at the beach house. Tony hears a little more than he was intended to… and maybe, just maybe, what happens at the beach house is going to go home with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/n - title from one of the quotes in What Happens in Vegas, which is a truly horrible movie, and this is mostly in no way based on that film.

Bucky was gone by the time Tony got out of the shower -- and maybe he’d lingered there for a while, hiding under the running water until even his mother’s water heater had given up the ghost and started to cool off. The last day at his mom’s beach house, they were going to be packing up and Happy would drive them back to campus, Tony supposed, after lunch.

It wasn’t normal that Bucky was gone already. He’d always waited for Tony before, even on the days when Tony was determined to sleep through lunch, Bucky would pull out a book and read, or watch videos on his phone.

Yeah, okay, so Tony might have been getting a little tired of the act. It was harder and harder to remember as the days went by that he was going to have to give this up once they got back to school.

It wouldn’t matter. A little distance at the end of vacation, Mom would think it was just vacation ending blues. She used to tell him when he was younger that she felt the same way. Howard was different, she would say, away from the business, away from his workshop and office. And that she was always a little sad to leave.

Tony had always thought she was full of it; even when he was too young to recognize what, exactly, she was full of. Howard wasn’t any different on vacation than he was at home. He was always obsessive, greedy, needy, jealous bastard. Just, on vacation, he was focused on Mom, and at home, he was focused on work.

If Tony was screwing up, then he moved from last on Howard’s priority list to somewhere in the top 10, but never higher than five, Tony had decided.

Even a colossal Tony screw up never rated of any more concern than that.

Tony had long ago decided that if the house was on fire, Howard wouldn’t remember he had a son until it was too late to rescue him.

Thinking about Howard always turned Tony’s stomach. He’d have skipped breakfast entirely, except he knew if he didn’t get his morning coffee, he’d have a terrible headache in an hour or so.

Bucky might be done with breakfast already and they could spend the day avoiding each other. Probably. Maybe.

That turned Tony’s stomach too, and he started wondering if the headache was worth it. If he didn’t have to see Bucky, then he didn’t have to see Bucky ignoring him.

Tony decided that coffee was the thing; he’d at least grab a cup.

His brain pinging back and forth between Howard and Bucky, and both people ignoring him, he almost walked right past Howard’s study -- even at the beach house, they had an office for Howard -- without noticing there were voices from within.

Almost.

He paused, because--

“... funny that I never heard a peep about you until he came into a fortune,” Howard said.

Tony’s stomach dropped and took up refuge somewhere around his toes. Howard was here? No one had told him that Howard was expected. He leaned closer to the door, eyes narrowed.

“Did he?” That was Bucky, his voice not quite casual. “Good for him.”

“Mmmm,” Howard hummed thoughtfully. “How did you two meet?”

“Couple years ago,” Bucky said -- and that wasn’t right, they’d only met last year, during a class, “I was running the projector for a moviefest the science fiction club was hosting. Tony was there, I think he came to see _Flash Gordon_ or something, but he fell asleep. I didn’t even know he was there, but when I was cleaning and packing up, I dropped the projector. Woke him up cussing because I’d broken it, and I didn’t have the money to replace it. Tony barely opened his eyes, got up, fixed the projector -- you know he carries a screwdriver around with him everywhere he goes? -- and wandered off before I could even say thank you. I didn’t know his name for another month, I think?”

Tony barely remembered that; he sort of remembered the film festival, but not doing repairs to an ancient projector, or talking with Bucky. Huh.

“Anyway, I guess we were introduced to each other, we were lab partners for Pym’s molecular bio class,. We were friends for a while; he helps me out with my car. I’ve been coaching him with his language and literature classes.” Bucky chuckled. “He, uh, he reads really fast, but he doesn’t always grasp metaphors and stuff. Makes writing lit papers difficult. He’s so cute, you know, he’ll pace around the room and be like, ‘no, the curtains are just blue, it doesn’t have to mean anything!’”

Now that, Tony remembered. The only reason he’d passed second year comp at all was because Bucky talked him through, silver-spoon feeding him, all the Christianity references in _Villette_. There were a _lot_.

“Helps you with your car? Makes the payments?”

“Huh? No,” Bucky said. “I own that car. She’s just, you know, kinda old. Tony likes playing with the engine anyway, so he’s been helping me with maintenance and stuff. You know the dealership wanted two grand to replace the sway bar? Tony did it in twenty minutes with a ten dollar part. And he’s fast. I told him he should try to get a spot on a NASCAR driver’s pit crew. He’d be a natural.”

Tony had to clap his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. That would piss Howard off to no end, really. Bad enough Tony wasn’t majoring in business, wasn’t going to the school Howard wanted, was instead wrapped up in studying mechanical engineering, but not to go into the business at all, to be a dirty, grimy mechanic? Howard would chew nails and spit staples before he’d let that happen.

Bucky was a pretty good driver; Tony wondered if they could run away together and live off the winnings from track races.

Not, he thought, shaking himself all over, that Bucky wanted to run off with Tony to begin with.

And what the hell was Howard grilling him about anyway. Why the fuck was Howard even here?

His parents weren’t quite divorced yet; they’d seperated about six months ago, but Howard kept trying… Tony was pretty sure he was going to wear Mom out eventually. Maria Stark had about as much backbone as an earthworm, and Howard was pretty stubborn when he wanted something.

Tony had inherited all that stubbornness, and some of the backbone issue. He had a hard time standing up to Howard, even when he really, really wanted something.

“Would you be interested in a new car?” Howard speculated.

“Not really,” Bucky said. “I, uh, my insurance premiums are only like seventy dollars a month right now. If I gotta put collision and the value of a new car on top of that, no thank you. I’m making do, and Tony’s keeping her running.”

“Something could be arranged to take care of that,” Howard suggested. “You like race cars? Chevy’s got a really nice Corvette this year, we could cover the insurance for a few years, at least until it drops a bracket.”

Tony could almost see the dubious expression on Bucky’s face. “What are you getting at?”

“Look, I’ll square with you, kid,” and there came Howard’s showman’s voice, the _I’m going to talk you into anything_ tones. “Tony’s being a thorn in my side. I built up Stark Industries from an idea in a garage, and I need him to stop messing around and put in some work so we don’t lose the company. This… engineering and fixing cars stuff, that’s just a distraction. Just… like you are a distraction.”

“I’m not quite following you, Mr. Stark,” Bucky said, but he sounded suspicious, like maybe he did.

Tony was half tempted to barrel in there before Howard could say something irrevocable. Or before Bucky could.

The rest of him wondered, exactly, what Howard thought he was doing.

And what Bucky was going to do about it.

“All of this,” Howard said. “This is what he needs to be thinking about, what he needs to be doing. And right now, everything’s going his way. He’s got school that he’s frittering time away with, and a boyfriend and all that.”

“And you, what? Aim t’ make him unhappy enough to do what you want?” Bucky sounded very unimpressed. “You know I don’t see him giving up on school just because we’re not dating anymore. He throws himself into work when he’s unhappy. You should see him every time he comes back to school after break. He’ll do it just to spite you.”

“Yeah, I think I know my son a little better than you do.”

_Do not, do not, do not,_ Tony thought, like a recalcitrant toddler. That was one of Howard’s biggest problems. He didn’t know his family at all. He barely understood his wife, he had no idea what his son was like.

“I’m still waiting for what your proposal is,” Bucky said. “Because this conversation is going around in circles. You wanna just lay it on the table?”

“I’d like you to break things off with Tony,” Howard said.

“This may well be the first time I got a you’re no good for him talk from someone’s parents,” Bucky said, thoughtfully. “So, hit me with what’s in it for me.”

“I understand what you think you’re getting out of Tony,” Howard said.

“No, sir, I really don’t think you do,” Bucky said.

“You think he’s a meal ticket, that he’s a steady rush of wine and dine,” Howard carried on, as if he hadn’t heard Bucky at all. “And you know and I know that college relationships don’t last. You’re a man of the real world, Barnes. Not like Tony, with his head in the clouds. So, let me just skip to the good part. I will cut you a check for fifty thousand dollars.”

Tony almost fell over; he had to cling to the doorframe as his knees went weak.

“Why does this sound like a proposal you’ve made before,” Bucky wondered. “Did you offer that girl a similar deal? Because Sunset dropped Tony like he was a hot brick.”

“Bain was reasonable,” Howard said. “Think what it could mean, Barnes, starting out your career without debt.”

Tony considered bursting in, now. Howard had paid Sunset to dump him? Painfully, letting Tony catch her with another guy? That was… that was fucking low, and Tony wasn’t sure why the hell he was surprised. Not that Sunset was the kind of person that Tony wanted to be with, if she could be paid off so easily.

“I think you don’t know the first thing about Tony,” Bucky was saying, and Tony dragged his attention back to his eavesdropping. “I think you don’t appreciate what you’ve got. Tony has money, but you know what? I don’t care about that. I care that he’s smart. I care that he’s clever. I care that his face lights up when he’s discussing engineering, and how he believes that the rules of physics don’t necessarily apply to him. I love the way his eyes crinkle up when he’s happy. And I don’t think there’s enough money in the world to break his heart _for you.”_

“It won’t last,” Howard said. “I’ve watched him be unable to maintain friendships. He forgets that the real world exists. He forgets to shower, wears dirty clothes, forgets to eat or sleep. He gets lost in his workshop, and then by the time he remembers that other people are real, they’re gone. You’ll end up without him, no matter what. I’m just offering to make it nice and convenient, and on your own timetable. With a sizeable incentive.”

“I think you’re a bastard,” Bucky said. “And now I won’t do it just to goddamn spite you.”

“You’re being foolish,” Howard snarled, all the charm dropping out of his voice.

“Maybe so,” Bucky said. “But being in love makes fools of all of us, doesn’t it, Mr. Stark?”

Tony let his hand drop off the door, backed up a few steps.

It didn’t make sense.

Why wouldn’t Bucky just take the money? He and Tony weren’t actually dating, the money was just a bonus on what was going to happen as soon as they got back to school anyway.

Bucky’d sounded very sincere.

_Being in love makes fools of us all…_

Tony stopped dead in the hallway.

What?

Bucky slammed the door to Howard’s study open, ready to storm out of the room, then, “Take your hands off me,” he snapped angrily. “I said-- oh, Tony.”

Whatever Howard was ready to say was bitten off behind his teeth as he followed Bucky out into the hall and saw Tony standing there, probably looking like an idiot, gawking.

“Oh, hey, Bucky,” Tony said, wildly, trying to sound nonchalant and probably missing the mark by a mile. “I was looking for you, did you want to, you know, go for a walk, since we’re leaving right after lunch and this’ll be the last opportunity?”

“Yeah, baby,” Bucky said, still glaring at Howard. “That sounds like it’d be great. Let’s go that.”

He was at Tony’s side in a moment, gripping Tony’s arm a little harder than he probably meant to, fingers digging into Tony’s bicep in a painful clench.

“Hi, Dad,” Tony said, waving. “Bye, Dad.”

Howard just stood there, fist clenched.

Probably Howard didn’t think it was worth the effort to assault someone who wasn’t a family member. Although he might reconsider it. Howard had really good lawyers.

“Let’s go,” Bucky said under his breath, not looking back. His shoulders were stiff and Tony was getting a sore jaw, listening to the way Bucky was clenching his teeth.

“Yeah, let’s… let’s do that.”


	5. How Did it End up Like This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Tony decide not to leave it at the beach house. (Yes, they finally use their goddamn words!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For MCU Kink Bingo Square I5 - Kissing

The sun had been up for a while and the air was as warm and muggy as May tended to be. The breeze was constant and filled with the bitter/sour that was salt water and fish and beach. Bucky kept his arm around Tony’s shoulder and looked out over the Atlantic, like there was something out there to see.

The Hamptons were lovely. Honestly, it was like a whole different world, compared to lower Manhattan. Despite that, he wasn’t sure that having access to a beach house was worth putting up with a father like Howard Stark.

“How much of that did you hear?” Bucky found himself asking, even though he had been trying to wait for Tony to say something first. But Tony wasn’t saying _anything_ , which was just weird.

“Enough,” Tony said, and then shut his mouth again with a snap, which made Bucky wonder if he was angry. Well, no duh, of course he was angry, who wouldn’t be angry, but--

“Are… um, are you okay?”

“I don’t think so, no,” Tony said.

Bucky glanced back over his shoulder. They’d been moving down the beach at a pretty good clip and left the house far behind. No one from Tony’s family could see them, or hear them, anymore. “I’m sorry,” Bucky started.

“Don’t be,” Tony interrupted. “I’m… I mean, I knew Howard… I mean, it was never spelled out like that for me, but I knew. I knew things weren’t… right. Although, you know, I didn’t, for the longest time. I thought it was normal. I thought we were _normal_ , that it was just how families _were_ , and that Howard-- I don’t even know what I’m trying to say here.”

“You don’t even call your dad… well, Dad,” Bucky said. “I think that’s about as far from normal as you can get, really.”

Tony laughed. Sort of. The strangled sound that came out of his mouth sounded more hysterical than amused. “I overheard my mom tell one of her friends--” Tony said, “that uh, things had gotten better with Howard. He wasn’t sleeping around, and he hadn’t hit her in months. And he didn’t do drugs. Like, go Howard, the bare minimum for being a not-quite-decent human being. And that was _better_.”

Bucky’s blood boiled. “Did he ever--”

“Hit me? Yeah, yeah, he has,” Tony said. He didn’t look at Bucky, just stared out at the ocean, but Bucky didn’t think he was seeing anything there. “Never when I didn’t deserve it, he always said, and like with Mom, not in a while.”

Bucky made a strangled noise of his own. “Tony, that’s… that’s not right.”

“Yeah,” Tony said. “I know that now. I didn’t, for the longest time. What I knew was that I wasn’t smart enough, or good enough, or respectful enough… It was always me. Something about me just wasn’t _enough_ for him.”

“That’s bullshit, Tony,” Bucky burst out. He ached to turn around, storm back into that house and see how Howard fucking Stark liked getting punched in the face. “You’re smart and talented and funny and brilliant and--”

“You don’t have to sing my praises, Bucky,” Tony said. “I know who I am.”

Bucky stopped walking and turned until he was looking Tony straight in the eyes. “You have _value_ , Tony. Even if you don’t believe that, even if you can’t see it. You’re valid.”

Tony gave him a watery little smile, utterly unlike the devil-may-care smirk he usually wore. “Is… is that why you turned down the money? Because I have some mythical _value_?”

“No,” Bucky said.

“Then explain it to me, okay, because I’m pretty smart, but I don’t understand this at all, I mean, why turn down the money for something you’re going to do anyway? I won’t resent it if you do, hell, I’d have negotiated for more, if I were--”

“I turned him down because I have no intention of _breaking things off_ with you,” Bucky said. “It’s bad form to take a bribe and then not follow through.”

“What?”

“I mean,” Bucky hesitated, and then went ahead and took the plunge, because he couldn’t just… let Tony keep thinking the things he was thinking. And this was the last day, the very last chance he had. “I mean I don’t… this has been really great, hasn’t it? I just… we could make a go of it, don’t you think? It doesn’t hafta…” Bucky licked his lips nervously. “I mean, there’s nothing to say we can’t actually _be_ dating, is there?”

“You don’t have to be like this, Bucky,” Tony said, and there was something awful in his eyes that Bucky didn’t want to see. “It’s not your responsibility to make it up to me. I had a shitty childhood, but Howard’s out of my life now. He can’t hurt me anymore.”

“Fuck Howard,” Bucky snapped. “Howard doesn’t have anything -- nothing, Tony, he’s got nothing to do with this.”

“And what is this?”

Bucky hesitated, then, fuck it, in for a penny, he decided. “This, Tony,” Bucky said, and he touched Tony’s chin, felt the prickle of Tony’s beard against his fingers as he drew Tony’s mouth up to where he wanted -- where he needed -- it to be.

Bucky pressed his mouth against Tony’s lips. God, Tony had a nice mouth, lush and wide and usually tipped up sarcastically. Tony smiled with his entire face, practically glowed when he was happy or excited, and Bucky had always liked it, but now, now it was as necessary to him as air and food. He needed Tony to be happy, needed it more than he needed his own happiness, although if he had to be honest, he’d rather Tony be happy _with_ him than without him.

Tony was frozen and still against him for a long moment, and Bucky was getting ready to draw back, maybe he’d misread everything, but--

Tony made a sound, a little moaning sound, and his lips parted, and Bucky almost wept with relief. He slid his tongue into that gap, licking at Tony’s teeth urgently. Tony had always kissed like he knew what he was doing, like he knew exactly what he wanted and the best way to get it. But this kiss was oddly hesitant, gentle, unsure. Like it finally meant something, more than just a physical sensation, more than just getting off. More than a means to an end. A kiss, a real one, a sweet, sincere meeting of mouths, a dance of tongue.

Tony wound an arm around Bucky’s neck and kissed him back. His body was lithe and warm and welcoming against Bucky’s and Bucky wanted nothing more than to stay in this moment, to live right here, right now, for the rest of time.

Hunger gained control and moved them both until they were necking frantically, mouths meeting and parting, teeth scraping, the noises they made were lewd. Bucky slid his hand into Tony’s hair, cradling his head. He lost himself in the sensual pleasure of it, just kissing, that was enough, that was plenty. The sun was hot on his shoulders and Tony was perfect in his arms.

He gave himself up to it, surrendering everything he was to Tony, hoping and wishing that Tony wanted it, wanted him. Tony’s mouth was soft against his, the sound of his breath whispered against his cheek. Tony reached up, fingertips stroking down Bucky’s throat and making his skin ripple with sensation.

Bucky realized he was practically forcing Tony to hold him up, hold him close, as Bucky’s knees grew weak and his senses were overwhelmed.

“How did it end up like this?” Tony asked when their lips finally parted and they clung to each other, panting for air.

“Don’t you say this was only a kiss,” Bucky growled.

Tony laughed and there was that smile that Bucky lived for, the way his face crinkled up, eyes squinting in the web of laugh lines. “Okay, Mr. Brightside, I won’t,” Tony said. “You gotta admit, though, it was a perfect set up.”

“You’re killing me here,” Bucky protested. “So, are we gonna do this thing, or what?”

“Oh, that’s romantic,” Tony complained.

“I’ll give you all the romance you can stand and then some, but put me out of my misery first,” Bucky said.

“Honey, you’re thinking about a relationship with me,” Tony pointed out. “I’m not sure that’s a recipe for not being miserable.”

“Hey,” Bucky said, pulling him in for another kiss, a short, sweet peck. “I haven’t been miserable all week. I’ve--”

“I just thought what happened at the beach house--”

“Well, I mean, I’m not going to go into details with Clint or anything about the noises you make when you’re blowing me in the shower,” Bucky said. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Oh, I do,” Tony said. “I totally do. If you think I’m not going to scream it from the damn rooftops that you’re kissing me because you want to…”

“I’ll get you a megaphone,” Bucky promised. “Just tell me we’re, you know, dating.”

“I think we’ve moved beyond dating and all the way to shacking up.”

“We can still go on dates, you know, just because they end in bed, and not at the doorstep,” Bucky said.

“Are you sure that’s allowed?”

“Well, maybe not,” Bucky said. “I might want to just keep you in bed all the time.”

Tony chuckled. “Well, that’s something we might need to explore. Also, I have class from time to time, and while I don’t really have to go to about half of them, some of them I really do need to attend. I’m a genius, but I don’t know _everything_.”

“I know the only important thing,” Bucky told him, “and that’s that I want to be with you. More than just the beach house, more than just a vacation. Together.”

“Well, you weren’t kidding about as much romance as I can stand,” Tony said. He linked his arm with Bucky’s, and they continued their walk, like Bucky’s entire life hadn’t just taken a turn for the better. “You know, I’m not really a good boyfriend.”

“I don’t see how you can _possibly_ know that,” Bucky said. “You haven’t exactly had a neutral playing field.”

“Is that what we have here, a neutral playing field?”

“No, probably not,” Bucky said. “I’ve been fallin’ for you for a while now, so what we have here is a positive radical.”

“You-- what? You have?”

“Tony, you about broke my heart when you texted me and asked if I could _pretend_ to like you for a week,” Bucky admitted. “I’d… I would have jumped at the chance to go on vacation with you, or just to the damn movies, but I thought you were out of my league.”

“You don’t want to be in my league, trust me on this, it sucks.”

“Stop tellin’ me what I do an’ don’t want, Tony,” Bucky said. “If you don’t want t’ you know, try to make this thing work as a relationship, say that. But I didn’t say nothin’ to your father that I didn’t mean. I want… you. Just you. Not the money or th’ fame, or the fancy houses. Just you, Tony, that’s all.”

“It’s gonna come between us, you know that, right? The money and the fame and the fancy houses?”

“Probably, sometimes,” Bucky said. “And the not-sleeping, and the putting a half inch of milk back in the fridge and putting the toilet paper roll on the wrong way. People argue, that happens. But I can make you one promise, Tony. I will never, _ever_ regret telling your dad where to shove his offer.”

Tony tugged him in for another kiss, barely a brush of his lips as they kept walking. “Okay, I take it back,” he said. “ _That_ was more romantic than I can stand.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Bucky said.

Tony smiled as if it just occurred to him that he could get used to something, to someone, to a way of existing, in a universe where someone else really cared. Or maybe Bucky was just projecting and those thoughts were all in his head. “Yeah, okay,” Tony said. “I could get used to this.”

  



End file.
